Morning
Автор книги Frank O'Hara
Время прослушивания 00:36,
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Восхищаться, искусство
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I've got to tell you.
how I love you always.
I think of it on grey.
mornings with death.
in my mouth the tea.
is never hot enough.
then and the cigarette.
dry the maroon robe.
At night on the dock.
the buses glow like.
clouds and I am lonely.
thinking of flutes.
I miss you always.
when I go to the beach.
the sand is wet with.
tears that seem mine.
although I never weep.
and hold you in my.
heart with a very real.
humor you'd be proud of.
